Eureka Seven: TerMinuS LimiNalIty
by L. Deschain
Summary: Darkness fades and Dreams collide. Who will be left in the End? One door closes, while another opens as reality switches from dreams to solidity.
1. Oh Well

_**A/N: Finally decided to write a fic for this show (it was sooo good!!). I got some really cool ideas too, so stick around.You'll be surprised. **_

_**On with the chapter heathens!!**_

_**Disclaimer: If I owned Eureka Seven, I wouldn't be this poor.**_

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**Prologue: "Oh Well"**

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_**Excerpt from Corallian Central Lunar Core, main information pocket**_

_**Level: Direct Input, branch delta**_

_**Classification: Archetype END Module, Transfer 1**_

_**Subject: Undefinable, source input unknown**_

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Who am I?

I don't really know. But then again I guess I really never knew in the first place.

I used to have a name, but it was just a title that the man with cold eyes had given me, nothing more. So I guess it doesn't really matter anymore does it? Seeing how the man with cold eyes is dead. It was a boring name anyways.

Still... I kind of liked it, that thing that gave me definition. It made me feel... more alive I guess.

Oh well.

Was I happy when it happened? Was I glad when everything ended like it did? Of course I was. I was so happy when that lonely child with the eyes painted with destiny found her future.

Funny, I always knew it would be with that boy.

It wasn't that he was particularly strong or anything. He just...seemed to touch her in ways that others never could. Not that they really tried in the first place. They only looked at her as means of controlling me.

It's truly sickening, when your sole purpose is to be a weapon. Even more, a weapon controlled by fools. But I had my part to play, as all puppets do.

Oh well.

I'm glad she never thought of me as a puppet more than she did a partner.

"_You'll dance with me, won't you?" _

And I had, I had danced up with her until the very end. Though I didn't always think of it like that. None of this had occurred to me until she had started to change. Up until then I had been just as mindless as her.

It was subtle at first, but after some time I could see the kind of effect he was having on her. I could see that she was changing, that the boy was doing what I could not.

He was giving her a future, and I was happy.

That's why, when the end came, I gladly gave up my existence for them. After all, only my flesh, if it could be called that, has died. I, on the other hand, seemed to have lived on in one form or another.

But it had felt so good, when she realized what she felt for him. How we were dancing the killing waltz with the silver one and the two children. How she asked me in our own secret little way to release the pent up sorrow from my body and direct all of that at the silver one.

How she had seen him, calling out to her. How she realized it was too late as the sorrow shot from my body and nearly annihilated him. How she had called out to him in a desperate frenzy. That sweet, oh so sweet feeling of peace and joy that had soared through me, changed me, as she finally decided to _do_ something about her path.

And how she had saved him, and told him she loved him.

Yes, I wish that I could of done more for them, rather than just die. But I guess that's not too bad. After all, I just wanted them to know that I cared about them both, when the end came for me. I don't think I could have shown it better than that.

I wonder how they are now? Maybe one of these days I'll know. I would like to see them again, if that's okay. And who knows?

Maybe I will also find someone who calls out to me like that boy did for my child. Or even how the silver one's children had called to each other. Maybe I can find someone who loves me, though I tsill don't really know what that feeling is.

Maybe then I wouldn't be stuck with this feeling of "Oh Well".

Now, wouldn't that be nice?

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_**End Excerpt, main information pocket backdrop**_

_**Level: Outward input, branch omega**_

_**Classification: Archetype END Module , transfer 1 (silent)**_

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_**Command from Central Corallian Lunar Core**_

_**Command Type: Epsilon Fixate**_

_**Classification: Archetype Central ZERO Module, command protocol**_

_**Report:**_

_**Archetype END Module, data transfer, Human/Corallian interface, coelescense maintained, A10 main connection achieved. Reform main protocol and primary functions.**_

_**Human core link established.**_

_**----**_

_**Begin Transfer Sequence.**_

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**Hope this one kept you guessing, it'll make sense soon. I apologize if it was a little "too" confusing. Though kudos to those who have figured it out so far!**

**Stay tuned folks. I got plenty more planned for this. Where will it go from here? You'll just have to wait and see!**

**And (if you're not feeling too lazy) please review! I know it's a hassle, but they help me with my motivation.**

**On with the next chapter!**


	2. Dreams of Who Am I?

_**A/N: Next chapter, heathens!!**_

_**Disclaimer: Don't sue me Bones, I'm still poor.**_ **O-o**

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_We stand in fear before that which we cannot see, and look in awe at what lies beyond._

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**First Phase: Dreams of "Who Am I?"**

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He was dreaming again. The same dream he always had when the full moon hung high in the sky and the night coated the sleeping world with a shroud of indifference.

The night is an odd thing. Ever changing, yet stoic. Indifferent, yet subtly attentive at the same time. Though, this shouldn't really come as a surprise. After all, we make the night our own.

At least, when we are truly ourselves.

Flowers. Yes, that's what he always seemed to remember about this particular dream that came and went with the passing of time. A field of gently swaying flowers that seemed to continue on forever into the horizon and beyond.

They always seemed to be important to him, when he was in the dream. He didn't know why. After all, the fact that the Earth itself hung low in the sky, so low that you could make out individual continents, should have caught his attention more than the sea of yellow and white flowers.

But, for some reason, he just couldn't take his eyes off of them. They seemed so...fragile; like delicate glass sculptures. As if one good gust of wind would crumble them all to dust. That's why he never moved from his spot in the dream. He was afraid that one false move would destroy the beautiful scene painted before him.

And then he would hear it, like the clear voice of a bell struck in a silent, empty room.

Laughter.

The sound of laughter. Laughter so pure, so happy, that it seemed it could warm the coldest of hearts and bring light to the darkest, most lost of souls. He would hear it, floating on the wind, and it would fill him with an overwhelming sense of peace.

Then he would catch the first glimpse of them.

Oh yes, he knew who they were; their faces had only been in every history book he had ever had to read. But he never thought of them as who they really were, nor did he ever seem to recognize them in the dream world full of pale flowers and worlds that hung high in the sky.

No, for some reason he always thought of them as the children. The children of the silver one.

Who was the silver one? He could never quite figure that out, though the dream part of him that visited the world of pale flowers suspected that the real him knew. He just never seemed to be able to remember, though he knew it was important. It was like trying to peer through a thin curtain. One could discern individual shapes beyond the fabric; but as for detail, it seemed infinitely lost in the shifting shadows of the curtain as it slowly rippled and swayed.

Oh well. He wouldn't never think on it for long, because that was the time in the dream when he was able to see them.

They looked so happy, running through the sea of flowers, hands held together in a loving embrace. They would run here and there, always laughing in that wonderfully happy way of theirs.

Then the girl, the one whose eyes were painted with destiny, would take hold of the boy's hands and stare into his eyes that were painted with love; and with a smile that put the beautiful sunlight of this world to shame, they would pull each other into an embrace so strong, that it seemed not even fate could break them apart.

Then the flowers would cease their endless swaying, the white clouds would cease their endless journey across the sky, and time would cease it's endless flowing; as if the world was holding it's breath.

Then, the two children would move apart, holding on to the other, grinning like idiots, intoxicated by each other's presence.

Love is a strange and fickle thing. For most it takes many years of experience to find the one they truly love. But these two children were special, they didn't play by the rules. From the moment they first met, all the way to the end, they had been caught in the nets of one another's hearts, and lost in the bottomless oceans of each other's eyes.

Didn't play by the rules indeed.

And that's exactly what he saw as he gazed at the two children, a warm feeling of joy blossoming in his chest. He couldn't help it, they just looked so...

So_ perfec_t together. So..._right_.

_This_ was what humanity lived for. _This_ is what humanity strove to achieve. Not some twisted desire for power ruled by fear, not some petty goal of revenge against that which we do not understand, but _this_. Humanity strove to achieve happiness in one another, happiness like the two children.

_That_ was what humanity had survived the wrath of Dewey Novac for.

That was always the name that entered into his mind in the dream. The word itself seemed to hold a sense of dread, as if suffused with a deadly poison; waiting for the chance to strike at the first unsuspecting victim.

Dewey Novac. The one who wished for death and destruction. The one to defy reality.

The one who killed the King, and brought death to the land.

Who was Dewey Novac? He was never quite sure in the dream, though he once again suspected his real world self knew. That seemed to occur quite often. Though whether it was that he truly did not know, or just his own ignorance, he could never figure out.

More indifferent shapes behind the curtain, it seems. Except this one, the one that was named Dewey Novac, had the prominent and defined outline of a being suffused with more than the recommended dose of malicious intent.

But once again, that was something he didn't think long on. It was merely a whispering thought caught between the haze of dreams and the sharp, coldness of reality. His attention was more focused on the children.

They were staring at each other now, both lost in the other's eyes.

The boy would say something, and the girl would answer in turn; the gems set into their foreheads emitting separate luminescences that mixed to create a soft, purple glow; a visible testament to the love they had, and would always share.

Then, with little more weight than a feather caressing against another, their lips would touch. They seemed so soft with one another, so careful. The purple light seemed to increase in intensity as the girl wrapped her arms around the boy's neck. The bright green wings on her back twitched in an almost eager gesture, as the boy gently slid his own arms around the girl's waist and deepened the kiss.

He smiled, he just couldn't help it. Watching the two children express their love for one another was always like watching something magical unfold. Nothing he had ever seen could compare to the beautiful sight before him.

He sighed with content, and let himself fall back onto the cushion of flowers beneath him. He no longer feared that they would crumble to dust at the slightest touch, rather, he knew their existence would be even more solidified from his contact. After all, the two children were here.

Nothing could go wrong. Everything was safe.

He once again sighed, breathing in the scent of the flowers around him and the soft smell that drifted on the wind as it lightly brushed the dream world with it's calm voice. He always felt a little sliver of disappointment whenever the dream came to an end, though he knew it had to end eventually. He was happy that he could see them, and the love they shared, even if for a moment.

He closed his eyes, knowing that the next time he opened them, he would once again be in the world of reality. One lone soul drifting amongst the endless sea of others, lost in the endless stream of consciousness.

Or so he thought.

Then he felt it, ever so slightly. Like the funny tingling sensation as the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and a chill runs down your spine.

Something, whatever it was, had _shifted_.

His eyes fluttered open, and a puzzled expression flitted across his face as he lifted his head up and saw only flowers. He was still in the dream.

That was odd, by now it should have ended.

He sat up, looking around for the two children. Then it came again, that odd _shifting_ feeling, except this time it was accompanied by a faint keening sound that radiated everywhere.

He saw the two children, their lips still locked together in a touching embrace, eyes closed as they sampled the taste of each other. Time around them had frozen, like usual when the dream ended. They were no more animate than statues wrought from glass. Nothing seemed amiss.

Then why was he having this feeling? The feeling that was turning his blood to ice?

The feeling that something was coming. Something beautiful, dangerous, and strange all at once.

That odd sensation came again, though much stronger this time. That feeling of _shift, _as if his underlying perception of reality was being overturned by some cosmic jester. The high-pitched keening sound filled the world again. Except this time it was much louder and closer. Though how a sound could be close, yet far, he did not know.

Everything around him screamed of _wrong_, though all appeared right.

No.

No, that wasn't true.

Because the girl was crying.

Bright tears that sparkled with luminescent starlight fell from her closed eyes and down her cheek. She was still holding the boy in her tight embrace, her hands around his neck. As he watched, her hands seemed to tighten their hold around the boy, almost like she was afraid.

_She's afraid the darkness will come and tear her away. That the dead won't stay dead._

How he knows this, he does not know. Only that it is the truth.

More shapes behind the rippling curtain of reality and thought. Must be getting crowded back there.

He watches the girl tightly hold on to the boy, her face wet with tears.

Then something strange happens, as the world _shifts_ and the keening sound clouds the air.

The darkness really does come.

It starts in the sky first, where the Earth hangs low enough that you could almost reach up and touch it. Sickening black cracks spread across the bright blue plane above their heads and steal away the endlessly moving clouds. The air thickens, and the high-pitched keening sound grows stronger still as the darkness continues to infect the sky.

The flowers, in all their fragile existence, wither and die as the darkness permeates the world.

Then the dark cracks spread and become a mass of withering black as they reach the Earth.

Then the Earth too, falls before the darkness as it disappears beneath the rippling pool of infection.

And through all of this, the two children stay in their embrace; their love the only shield they will ever need against the darkness.

Even as all the beauty of the land falls, they find strength and comfort in one another.

Around them, the world continues to die.

The darkness does not touch him as it extends it's reach to the land. Rather, it circles around him as it touches the field of withered flowers; as if it is shunning him from it's pleasurable caress, that touch of endless night.

He reaches his fingers up and touches his face. They come back wet with tears.

Tears the bright crimson of blood.

The darkness is everywhere now. The keening sound is deadened, though still there. Like the low purr of a cat playing with a recently captured mouse.

And the boy and girl stand before it, held in an embrace of love, lips together in a touch of softness.

Then it reaches the boy.

The girl tries desperately to hold onto him as the darkness begins to slither up his body, caressing him with it's touch.

They break apart, each holding the other as the darkness spreads across the boy.

He smiles, his eyes full of love.

She smiles back, her eyes sad, yet hopeful.

"_I love you." _he whispers, as the darkness churns.

Tears stream down the girl's face, but she continues to smile, her eyes holding all of the love in the world for him.

He takes her crying and trembling form into his arms.

"_It's okay."_

She looks up into his face.

"_I love you." _she whispers, as the darkness churns.

Then something truly unusual happens.

The girl's wings, bright green and as smooth as silk, lift up and _stretch;_ growing and moving until they completely encompass the boy in a cocoon of jade.

Then the cocoon warps and ripples, it's surface becoming something like liquid. With a sickening rip, the girl's wings tear off as the liquid cocoon swirls and twists itself into a long strand of green and pink.

The girl smiles and tears fall from her eyes.

Then, she opens her mouth, and swallows the strand as it cascades into her.

She falls to her knees, her hands over her mouth, struggling to keep the boy within herself as her soul threatens to break.

Her body shudders and trembles as she rises to her feet, her face a sad mask.

Then she turns, and stares straight at the boy who's mind houses the dream.

The gem on her head resonates a deep and vibrant light as it cycles between red and blue. She reaches up wipes the tears from her eyes.

He notices that one is now blue, while the other remains purple.

Everything falls quiet, as the girl opens her mouth and begins to speak in a voice that is hers, yet not hers. It is a voice that chills his soul, while her gaze strips the flesh from his bones.

"_And death shall have no dominion." _

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"Dead souls naked they shall be one" _

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"With those in the wind and the west moon;" _

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"When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone," _

_  
"They shall have stars at elbow and foot," _

_  
"Though they go mad they shall be sane," _

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"Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;" _

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"Though lovers be lost love shall not;" _

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"And death shall have no dominion."_

She falls quiet, head held low, her eyes closed.

Behind her, the wall of darkness churns and a face presses out from it, though calling it a face may be stretching the explanation a little.

It is more like a twisted mask of black metal, with lidless eyes that stare into him and through him.

His blood turns to ice as the metal that covers it's mouth stretches like slime and breaks, revealing a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth that gleam in the light of the darkness.

"_Will you dance with me?" _it asks in an almost pleading voice. The voice of a young girl that sometimes echoes in his mind and thoughts. A voice from the past.

_Coalescence activated._

_Human/Coralian interface reached._

_Download...complete._

Then everything turns white as the darkness convulses into itself and shatters into nothing.

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The first thing he hears when he wakes up is his own scream, rising in his throat.

The second thing he hears - or rather feels - is the hard floor colliding with his face, as he falls from his bed with as much grace as a pumpkin splattering against the ground after falling from eleven stories.

Good thing young boys are made of stronger stuff than a squash-related vegetable.

He stumbles up, the sheets tightly wrapped around him, his body trembling with... with _something._ He doesn't know whether to call it fear, anger, or sadness. All he knows is one unmistakable and absolute truth.

He's gonna be sick.

He rushes to the bathroom, bows before the Almighty Porcelain God (with nary a prayer), and unceremoniously empties the contents of his stomach into it's white, yawning mouth.

Outside, the night gives way to dawn as the sun begins to rise, signaling the waking of the living world.

He rises up, his breathing heavy and uneven, as if he has just run a marathon rather than the fifteen feet that separates his bed from his bathroom. He ripes his mouth with the back of his hand, and slowly makes his way to the mirror.

Staring back at him from the reflective surface is a young boy of fourteen. His unusual white hair is messy, and almost long enough to touch his shoulders. His skin is a pale cream color.

But what really catches him is his eyes.

They are a bright blue, with a tint of something like silver or gray thrown in their depths. A hard gaze governs them, as if they spend most of their time reflecting pain and frustration, rather than happiness or joy.

To say the least, William Lumine has not had the easiest life.

He sighs to himself, and retreats from the bathroom back to his bed, not bothering to pick up the discarded sheets. In fact, he doesn't even notice them.

He's to preoccupied with the dream.

It has already begun to fade, as dreams often do, though the feeling of terror that suffused his body has only slightly ebbed away.

He closes his eyes, struggling to remember the faces of the girl and the boy, but there is nothing. His mind has already filed that part into dusty memory.

What he does remember are the words.

The words spoken by the girl in a voice that was her but not hers.

The voice of the world.

He leaps from his skin, and nearly suffers from cardiac arrest as someone begin to pound on the door to his small house. Accompanying the banging is the harsh voice of a man who has seen many working years and too few vacations.

"Will, you damned scruff-brained idiot, get up!! You're gonna be late for school again! And you got work in the shop after that! Or did you forget about that too?!"

Will's face reddened slightly as he notices the clock does indeed spell lateness for him.

"Shut up, you old coot!" he retaliates, though he wears a slight smile on his face as he gets up from his bed to open the door to his early morning visitor.

Outside, in all his legendary and tough hard-earned complex, his white hair shining in the morning sun, is Axel Thurston.

His trademark wrench hangs from his belt, and he doesn't hesitate to grab it, and proceed to beat Will upside the head.

"Stupid brat! How many times do I have to come get you up until you can do it yourself!And don't tell me your clock broke again! I've already fixed it four times in the past month!"

_You know, I don't think this is helping me wake up. _Will thinks to himself as he proceeds to suffer his morning cranial damage.

"Alright, alright. I'll get going! Just quit hitting me, you crazy old man!"

A loud clang rang through the morning air, as a certain wrench of wrath was buried into an unlucky skull.

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Fifteen minutes later, Will was dressed and ready to go.

He checked the fuel level in the bikes tank, made sure his board was secured to it's side, then rammed down on the kick starter.

As the engine roared to life, he gunned the throttle and sped down the early morning streets of Belleforest, kicking up dust.

And somewhere, in the distant town of Warsaw, something begins to stir. Something, beautiful, strange, and dangerous all at once.

And the world begins to stir in anticipation.

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_**A/N: Ahhh, how I love cliffhangers . So, how'd you like it? I'm sorry it took so long, but I had some stuff come up. Sorry if it was confusing, but I'll explain more in the next chappy.**_

_**Stay tuned, things are jut getting started**_ (**insert evil laugh). XD**

_**On to the next Chapter!!!**_


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